


Speed Dating or Kink 101?

by hushlittlewolf



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ex-soldier!Bucky, Fluff, M/M, Speed Dating, and Bucky has a golden lab named Grant because i said so, but also sex, firefighter!steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2018-02-10 09:42:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2020275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hushlittlewolf/pseuds/hushlittlewolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve didn’t know why he had agreed to this. He knew it was Nat’s fault somehow. He was sure of it. Sam was guilty too, and while Steve had no evidence that said Tony was involved, he was just going to assume Tony was involved. </p><p>Tony was always involved in anything and everything that made Steve uncomfortable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speed Dating or Kink 101?

**Author's Note:**

> another tumblr prompt. i had a lot of fun with this one

Steve didn’t know why he had agreed to this. He knew it was Nat’s fault somehow. He was sure of it. Sam was guilty too, and while Steve had no evidence that said Tony was involved, he was just going to assume Tony was involved. Tony was always involved in anything and everything that made Steve uncomfortable.

So here he was, 8:30 on a Friday night and absolutely miserable in a 5 star restaurant. He took another sip of his wine and ended up downing half the glass. It had been that kind of night. 

The first woman hadn’t been so bad. At first. She was pretty in an understated way, long brown hair and dark brown eyes. She had a mole beside her mouth that framed her lips nicely when she smiled. Steve had thought she would make a nice sketch, delicate and pale with a pinch of color to darken her cheeks. 

Then she started talking about her cats. All 65 of them. Steve had regretfully informed her that he was allergic and only felt a little guilty at the white lie. 

The next one had been a man, and Steve spared half a grateful thought at Nat for signing him up for the bisexual night. The man had been handsome as well: close cut black hair, grey eyes, and a jaw for the Greeks. Steve had liked him the best actually. His name was Alec, and he was an investment banker at some big company. A little on the boring side, Alec made up for it in kindness and sincerity and dimples that wouldn’t quit. Steve was sold right up until Alec mentioned his two sons. It wasn’t that he didn’t like kids—he loved them actually—but he wasn’t looking for something that serious. Also, he was a firefighter. He couldn’t ask Alec to risk something happening to him and harming his kids as well.

The rest of the rounds went down hill from there. 

There was an older woman who reminded Steve of a nun that used to teach him in school. She told him point blank she wasn’t bearing him any kids but that she’d be up for anything in the sheets. Steve had spun some story about his father needing him to carry on the family name for some inheritance money. He could almost here Nat laughing at him in his head. 

Two men followed her, each more lewd than the last. The first one asked if anyone had fisted Steve and when Steve squeaked out a horrified  _No!,_ the man had laughed and said, “We’ll change that real soon.”

The second man wanted to put a collar on his neck and make him eat from a dog/cat bowl, and while Steve had no problem with everyone living the life they wanted, he had some serious questions to ask Nat when he next saw her, chief and foremost being “ _What the fuck did you even sign me up for? Speed dating or Kink101?”_ _  
_

Steve wasn’t even going to talk about the last woman. He never wanted to think of the last five minutes again. Ever. Until the day he died.

A bell rang off in the corner somewhere, and Steve took a fortifying breath before plastering on his most polite “ _Hello ma’am, may I help you with your groceries?”_ smile. He could do this. It was only 30 more minutes, and then Steve could go home, turn on the new WWII documentary on Netflix, and kindly tell Nat and Sam and  _Tony_ to butt out of his love life.  _  
_

"Uh oh. The _may I help you with your groceries_ smile. Yikes. Did the fisting guy get here before me?”

The voice was smooth and laughing with a noticeable Brooklyn accent that abruptly made Steve homesick. He looked up to see a man around his age slide into the seat across from him, an amused smirk pulling at his full and pink bitten lips. Steve felt his stomach fall out from under him. 

"He was a few rounds ago," he replied numbly. "I’m guessing no one’s taken him up on his offer if he’s around enough to be remembered." 

The man threw back his head and laughed. Steve followed the line of his throat up to a solid jaw line made for stubble. His hair was a chocolate brown and looked to be held at the nape of his neck by an elastic. Long hair was usually a turn off for Steve, but this man made it work. Steve wanted to know what that hair looked like falling into the man’s bright blue-grey eyes; he wanted to know what that hair felt like trailing through his fingers. God, was this man gorgeous. Steve’s fingers ached for charcoal and paper.

"Yeah, no one’s been brave enough. I’m not sure why he keeps coming around. Optimistic bastard," the man chuckled, shaking his head. 

"Maybe he’s just lonely," Steve replied. He didn’t know why he said that; it was just the first thing that came to Steve’s distracted mind as he mentally drew the endearing crinkles around the other man’s eyes.

The man looked at Steve then, really looked at him, and the mocking grin faded into something softer. His eyes became half-lidded, dark. Steve actually felt his cock twitch, like he was 16 goddamn years old and popping a boner at swim suit commercials. 

"Hmm. Maybe so." Leaning forward in his seat, the man licked his bottom lip and tilted his chin at Steve. "And what about you, Mr. Blonde, Blue-eyed, and Chiseled? Are you lonely?" 

"Steve," he corrected. "My name’s Steve." 

"Bucky," the man smiled. "Nice to meet ya, Steve. You still didn’t answer my question." He suddenly reached out and poured himself a glass of wine. Steve felt the air hitch in his chest as the candlelight played off of Bucky’s  _metal_ fingers. 

Swallowing past a thick tongue, Steve shrugged and tried not to show that Bucky’s prosthetic affected him as he said, “I think we’re all a little lonely. My co-workers think I’m a little lonelier than I actually am is all.” He was still staring at the flexing joints of Bucky’s hands, wondering at the shading between the folding metal plates, at the shine along their edges. The want to draw this man was like a fire in Steve’s veins. 

Bucky hummed in a sympathetic manner, but when Steve looked up he was smirking again, eyes gleaming in the low light. “Well it looks like lonely Steve has found something he likes.” The bold words settled like lava behind Steve’s naval. 

Feeling emboldened himself, by wine and the spark in Bucky’s eyes, Steve smirked back. “What can I say? I’m an artist in my spare time. Beautiful things catch my eye.” 

The look in Bucky’s eyes darkened, and Steve wanted to fist pump. And Tony said he didn’t have game. 

"Did you just call me beautiful?" Bucky asked around a smile. 

"That depends. Do you have 65 cats, a want to make me play a cat, any children or any crazy, sexual kinks?" 

"No, no, no, and no," Bucky ticked off. "Though the last one might be up for debate." His eyes dragged over Steve’s shoulders and dropped down to Steve’s lap, and he bit his lower lip. Steve’s cock was definitely recovering from what the previously lady said she wanted to do to it.

"What do you do?" Steve rasped the first garbled question that came to mind in a Herculean effort to keep from popping the zipper on his jeans.

Bucky’s left arm whirled quietly as it brought the wine glass to his mouth. “If I told you,” he said after a moment and  _goddamn it_ he was still smirking and Steve could think of nothing else than sliding his dick between those lips and fucking his mouth sloppy. “I’d have to kill you.”

The line was so corny Steve should have laughed. He didn’t laugh. Instead, he was trying to remember what his name was and what he had had for lunch because there was suddenly  _no blood_ left anywhere north of his belt. 

The bell rang loud and sudden, and Steve exhaled in a rush. He hadn’t even known he was holding his breath. 

Laughing, Bucky slid to his feet fluidly and donned his jacket. Leather, Steve noticed with another tight swallow. Quickly, his eyes fell to the rest of Bucky’s body. Lithe and compact, with obvious definition. And an obvious hard-on. Steve looked up and met Bucky’s eyes. 

"So," Bucky drawled, Brooklyn and lust thick in his voice. "Are you actually going to sit there for the next 20 minutes or are you going to buy me some coffee?"

Steve was on his feet and brushing past his next date all in the span of three seconds. Bucky grinned and took his hand, the flesh-and bone fingers threading with his own, and led him outside into the cool night air. 

As they hit the sidewalk, Steve turned to Bucky and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. His cheeks felt hot, and he was still unbelievably hard. “Were you serious about the coffee or…?”

Bucky threw back his head and laughed again. “Steve, buddy, I like you already,” he said.

Turned out he  _was_  serious about the coffee, but only because he just got off of work. He trained service dogs for wounded soldiers, and Steve smiled at the pictures he was shown, most of them featuring Bucky under a pile of young pups. Bucky himself had a golden lab named Grant, and a bionic arm thanks to a car bomb in Afghanistan. Steve had burns along the right side of his back, and a thick scar on his shoulder from a fallen, burning beam. That night, in Steve’s apartment, Bucky traced them with cool, metal fingers and a hot, scalding tongue, and Steve had laved at the seam of flesh and metal along Bucky’s shoulder until the former Sergeant sobbed. 

The next morning, Steve woke with the sun and sketched Bucky in sun rays and morning shadows. As he was shading in the curve of Bucky’s cheekbone, he grabbed his phone and texted Nat “ _I owe you one. Don’t tell Tony.”_

Ten seconds later he received: “ _Tell me everything. Now,”_ but silver fingers wrapped around his own and pulled the phone from his hand. 

"Hey. I’m not done with you yet," Bucky smirked into his neck, and Steve decided right then and there that speed dating was the best thing in the entire world. 

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are appreciated :) 
> 
> also come say hi to me on tumblr: http://the-wild-wolves-around-you.tumblr.com/


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